Play review: 'Zoot' a pretty fine fit

/ Daren Scott

9. “Zoot Suit,” San Diego Repertory Theatre: It’s rare to get a shot at seeing Luis Valdez’s sprawling, stylish play-with-music, a landmark in Latino theater. The Rep (teaming again with the San Diego School of Creative and Performing Arts) gave the piece pop and pizzazz.

9. “Zoot Suit,” San Diego Repertory Theatre: It’s rare to get a shot at seeing Luis Valdez’s sprawling, stylish play-with-music, a landmark in Latino theater. The Rep (teaming again with the San Diego School of Creative and Performing Arts) gave the piece pop and pizzazz. (/ Daren Scott)

Valdez, whose signature 1977 play is now getting a rousing (if occasionally ragged) revival at San Diego Rep, didn’t write that as an ironic one-liner. But while “Zoot Suit” is about the struggles and tradeoffs of assimilation rather than the perils of immigration, the moment (and audience reaction to it) gets at this landmark work’s lasting power to provoke – and surprise.

“Zoot Suit” is a fictionalized take on the ethnic tension and prejudice that finally erupted into rioting in World War II-era L.A. (and then spread around the country). A key catalyst was the Sleepy Lagoon case, in which several young Chicanos were scapegoated for murder and sent to prison after a show trial.

The pachuco look (and attitude) is personified in “Zoot Suit” by El Pachuco, a kind of Chicano patron saint who comments wryly on (and at times directs) the action, and is only seen by Henry. Raul Cardona plays the part with suave, strutting style; the way he strikes the classic pachuco pose – leaning back, hands in pockets, one foot thrust forward – he could be some kind of extravagant hood ornament for a low-rider.

With upward of three dozen performers (counting the nine-piece band), the show – the Rep’s third co-production with the San Diego School of Creative and Performing Arts – is the very definition of “sprawling.”

Director and San Diego returnee Kirsten Brandt (the UCSD grad and former Sledgehammer Theatre guiding light) manages to rein in the ambitious, sometimes wayward carnival of cops, courtrooms, fantasy sequences and dance breaks, and make the narrative flow.

Javier Velasco’s choreography offers plenty of visual pizazz, especially in panoramic scenes that get virtually the whole cast dancing. They move to the satisfying blues, big-band and Latin-jazz sounds of musicians from SCPA, and while not everything’s always perfectly in sync (a mean feat with this many moving parts), the exuberance goes a long way toward making up for imprecision. (The songs are mostly by the Chicano icon Lalo Guerrero.)

It’s actually a small wonder that Brandt and Co. even get this all to fit onstage. Talk about shoehorning. (So many shoes! So many horns!) The sets, lighting and projections by hat-tricking design maestro David Cuthbert (who happens to be Brandt’s husband) add plenty of texture and wit; especially memorable are his comically towering perch for the trial judge, and a beautifully lit transition from a somber prison-cell scene to a boisterous dance spectacle.

And there’s superb acting from a powerhouse cast, starting with the passionate and committed turn by Lakin Valdez (a son of the playwright’s) as Henry; though he seems slightly mature for the role, his portrayal plays across an impressive spectrum of emotions.

SCPA student Michael S. Garcia seems a star in the making as Henry’s young brother, Rudy; James Newcomb exudes both sympathy and pent-up fury as the boys’ defense lawyer; Jo Anne Glover brings warmth and humor (and has one barn-burner of a meltdown moment) as the journalist-turned-supporter Alice Bloomfield; Culture Clash co-founder Herbert Siguenza plays jaded to a hilt as a reporter and other characters; and there’s savvy work by (among many others) Maya Malán-González, Kevin Koppman-Gue, Catalina Maynard, Mark Pinter, John Padilla, John Nutten, Spencer Smith and Steven Lone.

And with a “suit” right in the title, you know the costumes will be in the spotlight. Designer Mary Larson delivers them with plenty of imagination and color (not to mention miles of fabric), even if Henry’s white coat looks a bit too suited for the lab.

To quote from El Pachuco: The actors, and the show, “put on the drape shape” with panache.